The judges have spoken

I just performed a very important scientific study and felt that you all should know the results immediately - that's how vitally important it was.

Right now at my parents' house we have what seems like a million different snack foods, including about five different types of chips. I wanted to give my dog a little treat and felt that she could prove a point I had made to my mom and sister, which is that Baked Lays and lime flavored chips are a disgusting abomination before Heaven. So my experiment went as follows:

ME: Mattie, do you want a treat? A treat???
DOG: *tail wags ferociously, half jaw starts watering*
ME: Here, have a lime chip.
DOG: *takes chip in mouth, immediately spits chip on floor. tail continues wagging*
ME: HAHAHAHA she just rejected the lime chip hardcore!
BYSTANDER: Well of course she did, those are disgusting.
ME: Here, Mattie. Have a Baked Lay.
BYSTANDER: How can you be so mean?? Stop torturing her!
DOG: *takes chip in mouth, holds it there delicately, drops it on floor and looks up quizically*
ME: HAHAHAHAHA why won't you eat these?
BYSTANDER: Of course she won't eat them, because they are also really gross. Dad, do you like Baked Lays?
DAD: *shakes head in disapproval*
BYSTANDER: That's what I thought.
ME: Oh fine, here dog. Have a normal chip.
DOG: *bites my fingers in her eagerness to gobble down delicious fatty chip*

I think that this settles it. Thanks to my highly scientific research, we now know that if my dog who eats garbage, dead things she finds in the street, and grass REJECTS these chips, then they must be truly truly horrible. But if you like them, well I'm pretty sure they're still on the kitchen floor so come on over!


*Thanks to Katie, the bystander, and Dad who both unwittingly took part in my impromptu investigation.

SORRY!

Guys, I was beset by demons of self-doubt and self-pity for a while. I felt like I had nothing worthwhile to say (not that I really ever do, haha) and that what I did have to say had already been said by other people, but much cleverer...er. So I'm sorry to have been gone. I've told those demons where they can put their fears and I'm feeling more cocky about my awesomeness and the need to share that with the world. HOORAY! But not today, because today I have presents to wrap. Instead I'll wish you a Merry Christmas, and leave you with this hilarious video that was forwarded to me.

XOXO

Self-inflicted torture

There is a movie that I feel compelled to watch every time it's on TV (as it was Sunday night). That movie is The Great Escape, and those of you who have seen it will know why repeated viewings of this movie can be linked to horrible depression. And yet I love it! It's the story of a special inescapable Nazi Prisoner of War camp for various Allied soldiers who were really good at escaping, the attempt of those prisoners to escape this camp en masse, and best/worst of all it is loosely based on real events which start out awesome but end tragically. And I can't help but stop stare at the TV in fascination every time it's on, like one of those really horrible car wrecks that you have to rubberneck just in case there might be dismembered body parts.



Don't get me wrong, it's got some great stuff in the first half. For one thing, you have to love the ingenious plans of these men to escape the inescapable camp. And who doesn't want to root for anyone who's fighting against Nazis?


Then there are the compelling personal stories. You have the cheeky American soldier ("the Cooler king") who defiantly escapes practically every other day even though he's always brought back, there's the "tunnel king" who is secretly claustrophobic, "the forger" who sadly goes blind just before the escape... all brilliantly depicted in a way modern movies and actors just couldn't hold a candle to. These are men one could truly admire, and the Americans are really awesome, so what's not to love?

Kiss America's butt, ya dumb Nazis! YEEEHAW!


And finally (and probably most importantly), there are these faces to gaze in wonder at:



But despite the pretty pretty faces, the excitement of pulling one over on the bad guys, and the engrossing characters the ending of this movie is so tragic and gut-wrenching (for those who haven't seen it I won't ruin it for you because you should totally watch it) that I simply can't understand why my brain forces me to watch it over and over. Is this a sickness? Should I seek help? Because if not, I'm totally putting this movie on my Christmas list so I don't have to wait for it to be on AMC to cry like a baby.

CORRECTIONS

Unfortunately my Top Ten Happy Things List was not entirely correct - oh the shame! So I'd like to fix that now.

Item #1: The list was missing bacon sandwiches which are my favorite of all sandwiches. I'm not sure what needs to be bumped off in favor of bacon sandwiches, but we'll call it 3.5 for now.

Item #2: The dog pictured was not, in fact, our annoying half-jawed scotty; rather that was her mother who had a whole jaw but a lot of cancer. Here is a real picture of the half-jawed wonder:Look at that little tongue hangin' out because there's no jaw to hold it in... aw!

I sincerely apologize for these grave errors!

A few of my favorite things

In the spirit of the season, and to balance out the several posts about the things that terrify or worry me, I want to turn away from the Dark Side for a bit. You know, walk into the light. Put a little smile on my face. So this post is about 10 of the things that just tickle me pink, from shades of the palest blush (10) to downright pepto (1). Here's my grateful list:



10. Days off from school/work/responsibility. Heaven knows these are rare. Even on the days off you still usually have shopping, cleaning, whatever that needs to be done. So I'm talking the sleep in until 2pm, eat nothing but ice cream, and be generally lazy whilst swinging in the hammock days. Ahhhh....

Also pictured, my 11th favorite thing: cash money in the hand



9. Words like "swell" and "shucks" and "so's your old man" that harken back to an older era. I'm not sure why these please me so much, except for maybe that no one really uses them. I just love saying those, especially "swell."



8. Musicals. Okay, so I'm a closet Zac Efron fan. Not because of his girlie hair, but because I just love musicals! If I could have one wish, it would be to somehow be awesome enough to star on Broadway. Feel free to begin the mockery now.



7. 80s toys. This one's kinda obvious right, they bring me back to my childhood. One of my favorite places (I guess there would have to be another post for favorite places) is the loft of my grandmother's cabin, which is a veritable cornucopia of childhood memories. It's full of bins of Star Wars guys, He-Man guys, Strawberry Shortcake dolls, etc. Just the sight of those bins makes the 8 year old in me start jumping up and down.
So many potential battles and adventures for these toys are flooding through my head right now....



6. Ridiculous action movies. I know so many people with deep thoughts who enjoy deep and meaningful movies. Those people try to convince me to watch these movies with them to enlighten/enlarge my mind, but secretly I just really love me some Indiana Jones or original Star Wars. I don't care that the plots are crazy, the lines are actually quite lame, or that cars and boats and Nazis don't really explode that easily, I just love getting my blood pumped up and not having to think too hard about it.



5. Korean food. I have my sister Anna to thank for this, and the restaurant Sam Hawk to thank for keeping the love alive. Try the bibimpop sometime - you won't regret it!



4. Halloween. Not for the candy because that is always of questionable quality (I swear, some of those weird orange and black candies have just been circling from bag to bag for decades since no one ever eats them). I love the chance to dress up! And with Halloween, the crazier the costume the better! If LARP and Star Wars/Star Trek nerds play their cards right, this is even their chance to blend in like normal people.



3. The beauty of the earth. Seriously, this is the main reason I miss my camera so much; this place is just so dang pretty! My parents' back yard, which literally has wildlife (like moles apparently) roaming through it constantly, is always a little breathtaking. And every rainbow makes me stop and stare.

One of these I took from our deck and the rest were in Spain. Bet you can't guess which one was from the deck!



2. My ridiculous half-jawed dog. Okay, actually I hated this dog when she first came to live with us. She was spastic, crazy, stole food from our other dog, and because she's missing part of her jaw she was always sliming me. But now she generates hours of conversation for our family with the dumb things she does. Some of our best stories our about her and how she follows us around the house, is always finding neat stacks of paper and carefully lying right on top of them, and while she acts all fierce she always carefully avoids any real confrontation. Also, any time she gets too annoying we just throw an empty milk carton to the ground and laugh as she runs into walls trying to catch it!

Apparently this was her nefarious plan to keep my brother from serving a mission. FAIL! Or maybe she was just trying desperately to escape?



1. My awesome family. AW! Hugs guys!

(pictures stolen from Rachel's blog.)

To Rachel on her birthday

NOTE: I find rhyming to be much harder than smarty pants like Robert Frost or Rudyard Kipling would have you believe, so the last line of each stanza might not be quite in sync. Please feel free to direct all complaints to my agent, Mr. Zipit.

Rachel's a really great gal.

One could say, "More than a pal!"

She's tidy and neat,

And has really small feet,

But that's not the point of this poem.

Rachel is really quite smart,

And has a generous heart.

She's quick to lend cash

Or scratch your gross rash

Because, well she's just that nice.

Rachel is gorgeous as well.

Her face is très très belle!

She's got beautiful eyes,

And enviable thighs,

And the most impeccable style.

Rachel's my best oldest sister.

I love her more than a blister.

I hope this day rocks

And you get more than socks

Because you, my dear, are priceless.

Hair and gone

After writing that post about zombies, I stopped having zombie nightmares which was awesome. No more waking up, heart pounding and feet ready for running because I was half-convinced there were zombies under my bed. HOORAY! But then a new type of nightmare emerged: finding that large chunks of hair had fallen from my head!



Now upon waking I'm forced to check the mirror every day, glaring fiercely at my scalp and trying to decide if I have the same amount of hair as I did yesterday. I've become convinced that it's falling out and I have no idea what to do. Am I being paranoid or just aware? Is worrying about it a self-fulfilling prophecy? Maybe if I am losing precious hairs it's because the stress of worrying over my potential baldness is causing them to fall.


So I'm trying to decide on a course of action. With zombie-related fears one can come up with some sort of plan, but how does one plan for baldness? I could cut my hair way short so it's easier to fluff out or leave it long so I can do a comb over. I could dye it blond in the hopes that if scalp is showing through it will blend in better with the color or dye it brown in case there are just a whole bunch of very light-colored hairs that can't be seen now but will all the sudden appear when darkened. I could even go drastic and buzz/shave my head like a preemptive strike. After all, Demi Moore and Sigourney Weaver have already rocked that look and they weren't half bad!



In the end I'm just not sure what the best route to take is. Oh well, at least I have all those hats and wigs if I should go bald. I can be like Princess Di and make the giant floppy hat fashionable again. I'm sure I could start a fashion trend, since after all - who wouldn't want to be me?

I could totally pull all of these off.

Zombie Apocalypse keeping me up at night

Lately I've become increasingly concerned about a pending zombie doom. I'm not sure if it's because of the recent flood of movies, books, articles, comics, etc. all about zombies; or if I deep down in some ancient and primal part of my soul I sense that it's inevitable. After all, even the Bible talks about the undead (or "differently alive," if you're being politically correct). True, the Bible also includes The Song of Solomon, arguably the giggliest and funniest book of scripture ever, but I’m pretty sure the zombie part is for reals.

This is doctrinal, guys.

Most upsetting about this obsession with zombies are the torturous dreams I've had about trying to survive in a post-zombie-apocalyptic world. It got to be too much, watching all my dream loved-ones either get turned or eaten. Never mind that upon waking I realized none of my actual friends and family were portrayed in my dream (obviously I just love them too much to think of them that way; that, or my subconscious has an outside casting director and my real friends and family didn't make the cut), it was still horribly depressing and what's more, my dream self is always woefully unprepared for the attack. So it's clear to me that this is a warning from a higher power that I need to get in gear and get a plan - a good one - for when the zombies come.

My childhood home had the perfect setup. Conveniently located in a basement room where we kept our dried goods, candles, matches, water, etc. in case of emergencies was some sort of giant cement alcove with a small opening. While I always imagined that there might actually be bodies in that opening (seriously, what else was it for??), it would also be the perfect place to hide my body until the zombies got hungry and went looking for something else to eat. There was food, light, and a few impenetrable feet of concrete. But my family moved to Idaho, and our new basement has no such impenetrable fortress. Even worse, there’s a sliding glass door! I ask you, how will that keep zombies out? I’m surprised that my parents didn’t take that into account when they bought the house.

Oh hey, we *love* that movie! Can we just come in and watch with you?

So now my plan has been forced to change. After reading this brilliant article about how much everyone else’s awesome plans suck, I’ve carefully thought out multiple different scenarios and then one by one rejected them all:

• After my folks’ basement, WalMart seemed the next best thing. But again there’s the glass door problem and also I’m sure that’s going to be a lot of people’s plan. While having lots of people around when the zombies come is good for tripping others and running while the zombies get them (also good in dinosaur attacks), it’s not so good for making the food last. Also, all of those people would just have the potential to suddenly become the enemy, and this enemy multiplies like crazy.
• I could try to find some ancient monastery or convent somewhere. After all, they’re usually isolated, they tend to have a food storage of some sort, lots of books to read, and maybe a really good garden out back. But here’s the problem: already populated with either nuns or monks – possibly *zombie* nuns or monks. Also, those are usually only found in Europe.
• I secretly buy dozens of guns, lots and lots of ammo, and a motorcycle. I become the badass superheroine from the movies, strap all the guns on, and always keep riding. The problem with this is funding. I have no such money for guns, ammo, or bikes. And where would I get gasoline when the zombies have eaten all the gas station attendants? Too bad I'm outta gas, cause I look totally awesome.

So finally, I came up with the only realistic solution: I just give in, find the least aggressive zombie and allow it to bite me so that I become one of them. After all, there are going to be billions – what’s the point in hiding? It’s not like they can’t outwait me since they're dead and have nothing better to do. I’ve already tried out the look, and it’s not too bad. I think I could pull it off. But just know: I’ll be coming for your brains first.

Sometimes I wish I was a guy

Because I just can't see a bunch of girls spending time on something like this:


but it seems like it would be so incredibly fun.

Come into my parlor...

I used to be a peaceful person. I used to try and embody the idea of "all God's creatures got a place in the choir" and "do unto others..." etc. by being kind to all living things, even ants and slugs. Then one day all that changed.


My parents moved to the edge of the wilderness, or at least the edge of a gully that leads to wilderness somewhere. While this means some really sweet vistas, it also means that a doggy door might be a stupid idea (oh hello Mr. Coyote!), and that we get tons more bugs. At first, I was inclined to reluctantly welcome the one or two spiders I started finding. I mean, yes they were disgustingly, fear-inducingly HUGE,
Think this but bigger. And maybe less whiny.


but they showed up around the same time that like a zillion flies moved in. I figured that all spiders do is be incredibly creepy, whereas flies poop in my food and laugh while they do it; and since spiders kill the flies they're an improvement right? Oh how wrong I was. SO WRONG!

It turns out that there weren’t one or two spiders, and they weren’t the plain old wolf spiders I knew from my childhood home of KY. These were in fact dozens of hobo spiders (note: not the satchel carrying, rail riding type of hobo my sister Rachel pictures), and here are some little facts – or at least soundly believed ideas – about hobo spiders:

• They came into my house, not to build a tiny campfire and cook tins of beans, but to do the nasty. Yes, it’s mating season, and nothing puts them in the mood more than hiding out in cozy basements and terrorizing innocent girls who climb on chairs screaming, while uncaring brothers laugh raucously from the upstairs.
  




• All hardware stores and aisles that contain insecticides stock up on sticky traps, because hobo spiders can hold their breath, thus rendering normal spray useless against their super powers. Also, I totally got stuck in a sticky trap and it took me like five minutes to get free. Those are no laughing matter!
  




• They are extremely aggressive and will chase people rather than run away. And yes, logic would point out that humans are a thousand times bigger, but click here at your own risk (these are really gross) to see the possible results of a hobo spider bite. Also, they have eight legs. EIGHT LEGS!! We've all seen Arachnaphobia. I'm not sure which of these two is scarier.

Upon learning all of these facts (or widely held beliefs that I’m not prepared to question) we decided that flies or no, the spiders had to go. We first attempted just to suck them up with the vacuum hose, but while the thunking sounds they made were really satisfying, there were too many of them. So we figured that despite being able to hold their breath (how creepy is that? It implies intelligence high enough to recognize aerosol spray cans!) no spider could withstand a few dozen bug bombs set off all over the house. Take that, suckas!

So, let this be a warning to humans that the hobos are coming, and a warning to spiders: stay out of my house, biotches. We’re afraid to get near enough to squish you, but not afraid to fog your many legged butts.

I don't know about you guys...

But I could totally watch these videos all day.





and this.


Please ignore the coincidence that they are all hobbit related. While hobbits are awesome in their own rights, these videos are just freakin' funny man! I particularly love the idea of Leonard Nimoy's back-up dancers. Oh what I wouldn't give for enormous hair and a time machine, so I could be a part of that video....

Vampires in our midst

So, I once read an article in the illustrious and hard-hitting magazine Weekly World News, where anyone who wants to know the real truth turns, that was all about how Johnny Depp is really a vampire because he has clearly not aged since he first captured our hearts in 21 Jump Street. The article featured this image, which is not at all photo-shopped, and I was immediately convinced:

What kind of monster would show up to a red carpet event with blood dripping off his fangs??


So along these lines, I've been carefully scanning Hollywood for similar vampires dwelling among us. I feel that it's imperative we recognize these menaces because, as I learned from my childhood mentor GI Joe, knowing is half the battle. Below are the vampires that I've found thus far, starting with those who have attempted to mask their immortality (unsuccessfully) with disguises like beards, graying hair, dental alterations, and craziness.

Your beard cannot hide your true nature, Clooney!


I can't tell how old he is in either picture, but his buckteeth crack me up!


You can be crazy all you want, we're on to you BAI LING!


Then there are those, even more annoying, who make no attempt at all to hide their never-ending youth; even occasionally flaunting it and mocking us with their hot bods and devlishly handsome faces.

It isn't fair when 50+ year old women are more sexy than I am. For this they deserve to be staked!






Okay, in this case he may have had some work done rather than being immortal, because I'm just not sure that chin can possibly be real.


Aw, he still has those adorable little boy eyes that made the bullies of the 80s never take him seriously.

Of course, on the other end of that spectrum are those vampires who came into the world looking 60 and went out looking 60.




So, be on the lookout folks. Be ye truly warned that Hollywood is apparently a hotbed of vampirism. Now you know, next time you're at the theater be sure to bring your garlic just in case!

I'm back!

Hooray I'm back guys. We have computers again, and not just an obnoxious laptop whose tiny keys foil my pudgy fingers every time. Even better, we have the computer I always use back up and running, which means that I can access all the special images I pepper my posts with. Oh life is good.

These past few weeks I've solaced my soul by writing many mental posts about how boring Harry Potter and the Movie that Never Ended was, about how horrible I find flies which almost excuses the existence of spiders, and about the possibility that Tim Burton is just getting weirder and weirder in an attempt to see how far he can push humanity. But since I didn't take notes after composing those brilliant pieces in my head, I don't really remember what I said and so I possibly won't actually put them on the old blog. Too bad that you can't all read my fabulous mind! Or maybe this is a good thing as it will save you from yet another whiny post about the money I've wasted on this summer's floppers. Plus, other than the people who were actually at the theater with me, I'm apparently the only person alive who didn't like the new Harry movie, so my post would have been irrelevant anyway.

Instead, I will simply have to come up with new subjects. Feel free to suggest things you'd like to hear my take on. I will be posting more about Disney (a never ending well of darkness), suspected vampires, and whatever else catches my fancy. It's gonna rock!

ATTACKED!!!

So guys, the computer got hit. It would so happen that when the family was limited to one computer in the house, that's when the viruses... virusi... viruseseses* got us. I just wanted to explain where I've been! I've still been having as many deep deep thoughts as I usually do about transvestites and evil corporations, but I've had no way to express them to you because everytime we try and get online, the virus villains slow down and eventually freeze the computer rendering it useless for blogging purposes. Fortunately, there are other compies in the house, and now one of those is set up until the beloved Main Computer can be fixed.

I ask you, who writes virusi? Who has nothing better to do with their time than to sit around thinking of ways to destroy computers? Clearly hackers should all get blogs, then they wouldn't need to be so destructive.

At any rate, if I'm a little sparse in my posts for the next few weeks it's because 5 people now have to share one tiny laptop computer, and there will be blood shed.



*I'm having real trouble with the plural of "virus" here, but I'm too lazy to look it up. So I'll just be going with whatever feels right at the time.

Still alive, but oh so bored

Guys - don't worry. We haven't starved to death. Thanks to Jack-in-the-Box and my dad's excellent grilling skillz, we're making it work. I wish I could say my employer, who for confidentiality purposes I will call Shmirect TV, was as put together as we Mom-less folks are. Due to repeated system crashes (known to customers as "totally scheduled upgrades, we promise we didn't break down"), I am so freaking bored at work. Consequently, I've been thinking of weird stuff.

What, you ask, is occupying my brilliant mind? Get ready: it's drag queens. THAT'S RIGHT! I've become increasingly intrigued by these masters, or rather mistresses of marvelous - purveyors of pizazz, architects of allure, begetters of bewitchment, and rulers of razzle-dazzle (guess who likes the thesaurus). This fascination was started by Hollywood with such fabulous films as To Wong Foo Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar and Kinky Boots. Having to sit all day staring at my empty computer screen has given me time to reflect on the brave men who have "way too much fashion sense for one gender," and this reflection has fomented two main thoughts: 1) why is cross-dressing so weird anyway, and 2) why are white men such ugly women?

There was once a time where all men wore heels, silk stockings, and fantastic wigs

To be without a ginormous wig, lead-based face paint (no wonder the nobles were all so crazy), and the perfect high heels would have been just gauche. There are even songs all about it in such musicals as The Scarlet Pimpernel where the main character explains that just as male animals fancify themselves, so should men. Somehow, as time went on women took on more of the burden of grooming, and all men were left with was to maybe use hair gel and shave the beard. Clearly this is against nature and transvestites, rather than being unnatural, are simply gussying up like God intended.

Or something.

Except not white men, because they suck. Take, for example, the lucious ladies of To Wong Foo. On the one hand we have Patrick Swayze, and on the other is Wesley Snipes.

You tell me who is the prettier man. Here are a few others for your consideration.

vs.

Despite all my pondering, this remains a mystery. Clearly, white men are just too ugly to be women, even if I don't know why.

So my friends, while this may have been really weird, that's what the "system upgrades" at Shmirect TV have brought upon you. Pray that our system starts feeling better before my brain gets even more twisted!

Helpless

Despite the fact that I've lived somewhat successfully on my own for a few years now, these last few months I've gotten quite comfortable living at home. I won't say I've been waited on hand and foot, but setting the table and doing dishes is a much easier burden than actually cooking edible meals. However, I didn't realize just how dependant I'd become on someone else's kitchen know-how until my mom abandoned us this weekend.

Before she left she stocked the fridge and freezer with all manner of digestibles; fruit, vegetables, pork chops, chicken, and tons of pre-cooked frozen junk. I scorned the idea that we would not be able to fend for ourselves, that she *needed* to buy all that stuff. After all, she was leaving behind my adult brother, my adult father, and me - the epitome of self-reliance. Oh, how my scorn was in vain! OH HOW WE NEED YOU, MOM!

All of the sudden I open the fridge and feel completely helpless when I fail to see a salad, side dish, and main course of some sort. There are no caseroles waiting for me. Who the heck knows what to do with pork chops? NOT ME. I suddenly remember that when I'm on my own I rely mainly on spaghetti, Burger King, and the Chinese Buffet.

Guys, I think it's possible that if my mom stays away for the 3 weeks she planned... we may die. It's been nice knowing you.

I hate to do it but...

Guys, I have to post about my newest foray into the fabulous films of 2009. I'm sad to say that 2009 is a terrible year for action flicks. For those of you who were gleefully anticipating another jaunt into the realms of childhood through Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, turn away now. For the rest, BE YE WARNED! This movie was like, as my brother David so aptly put it, having Michael Bay and his cronies pee on the audience for 2 hours. Sorry to be crude, but there's really no other way to put it.

The main problem here is that I brought it entirely on myself. Ebert warned me, but did I listen? Oh, my bro-ster and I sat at the dinner table trying to convince our parents to join us, laughing at the poor reviews and smugly stating that there was no way to be disappointed in a movie that you held no expectations for. THIS WAS FALSE! I did expect! I expected to have a semblance of plot, some attempt at continuity and attention to detail, and I expected not to be bored silly by lots of exploding stuff. Who would have thought that *moi* could ever be bored by explosions??! Somehow Transformers did it.

I would go into detail about the ways the movie patronized its viewers; in fact I was so bored during the two and a half hours of redikalous non-plot that I mentally wrote several posts about exactly what went wrong. But I will refrain from blabbing on about the lack of geographical accuracy (at one point a robot falls from a pyramid in Cairo to a temple in Luxor - 313 miles away), Megan Fox’s magic white pants that kept self-cleaning despite all the desert sand she rolled around in, or the way the narrative constantly jumped from point A to point Z without touching on a single point in between; that could get even lengthier and more boring that the film itself. Instead, I think I can better sum up the problem with the film in one statement: apparently Michael Bay feels that all you need for a good summer flick is Shia LaBeouf’s giant eyes and even bigger nostrils, Megan Fox’s hot body (beauty is such a trial for her), and lots of explodey stuff.

In closing I will simply save you $8.50 and summarize the movie now:

Robots fight robots, stuff explodes.

Shia LaBeouf packs for college, stuff explodes.

Bad robots travel through space to distant galaxies in mere seconds, stuff explodes.

Shia makes new friends at college, some of whom are bad robots pretending to be hot girls; stuff explodes.

Robots fight robots again, stuff explodes.

Bad robots, good robots, and humans all race to Egypt to get some random machinery that’s apparently been hidden inside the pyramids this whole time, as well as magic robot fairy dust; stuff explodes.

Stuff explodes.
Stuff explodes.
Stuff explodes.

Stuff explodes.

More stuff explodes.

The good guys win, stuff explodes.

The end.

Disney Part II

Hello my peeps. Once again I've taken a breath, held my nose, and dived into the murky shrieking eel-filled waters that are the wonderful world of Disney. It isn't pleasant, but I do it out of a sense of duty to the world. Also because I have no life.

Last time we discussed image issues; namely that Disney seeks to fill innocent child minds with the idea that mice and squirrels are our friends, rather than the disease ridden masters of destruction and gross tiny poops that they are.

That was truly and undoubtedly heinous on Disney's part, and that alone would be well worth castigating Disney forever - BUT the list of crimes goes on! This post will cover Disney's promotion of violence as a solution to problems.

You doubt me, perhaps. You say to yourself, "Surely Disney promotes only acceptance of oneself and others, love, happy bluebirds, and the ability to sing and dance intricate choreography at the drop of a hat." I laugh at your naivete, and present for your consideration one of the victims of Disney's violence - Snow White's stepmother:

In this sequence we see a harmless old woman, chased to the rocky and rainy cliffs by several small angry dwarfs. You might consider this a fair fight since they're small and she's big, but note that while the dwarfs have spent their days in the mines building up sturdy muscles, the shriveled old woman can't even run without hobbling. Consider the fear in her face as she climbs the rocks with her trembling old hands, attempts to stop her attackers with a harmless giant boulder, and then is flung to her death by a bolt of lightening. Is this really what we want to teach our children? And this scene doesn't even show the two vultures who gleefully and lazily drift down to feast upon her remains. Sick.

Here is the next batch of victims:

(Shere Khan, Maleficent, Gaston)

Please note the fear and terror present in the faces of these characters. Are we to understand that because these are "bad guys" it's okay to tie fire to their tails, stab swords through their hearts, and throw them from rooftops??! Is the idea to teach children that they can torment their tormentors back, and it's okay because they're "bad"? You should definitely tie the school bully up and pummel him senseless, because Disney says that's okay.

Lest you think that these are isolated incidents, let me remove doubt from your mind:

(Judge Frollo, Captain Hook, Sir Hiss)

And what horrendous crimes justify this torture, cruelty, and murder? Well actually, the guys in these movies are pretty bad. But that just illustrates my point further. What Disney genius decided that the proper entertainment for young children is watching evil men like Judge Frollo, from The Hunchback of Notre Dame, burn and persecute gypsies? Oh well, it's okay because in the end a gargoyle spews the FIRES OF HELL into his face, and he plummets to his death. Yeah.

Oh sure, Disney tries to pretend that it's all about feel good musical numbers, equal rights for mice, and happiness for all. But what I see when I watch these movies is a dark and frightening trend that teaches children before there can be happiness for all, there must be gruesome and terrible death for some. Shame, shame be upon Disney! Fie on you for first softening children towards disgusting rodents, and then teaching them that murder and torture are justified if your victim is really mean. *

*It should be noted that this took hours and hours to put together because it was truly and ridiculously difficult to find these images. Even though every single Disney villain that I can think of either dies a horrible death or experiences some terribly ironic punishment, pictures of this are few and far between. I sense a cover-up! The deaths that I wanted to show but couldn't find are Ursula the Sea Witch being impaled, Scar the lion being torn apart by hyenas, Edgar the butler being trapped inside a chest and shipped to Timbuktu, and Lucifer the cat plunging from Cinderella's tower.